


swollen secrets

by saunatonttu



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Nightmares, Pre-Canon, some blood some violence mentioned, traumas, vague pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunatonttu/pseuds/saunatonttu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Koujaku ever wanted to happen in the vicinity of Aoba and Tae-san was to wake up from one of those kinds of dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swollen secrets

The last thing Koujaku ever wanted to happen in the vicinity of Aoba and Tae-san was to wake up from one of _those_ kinds of dreams. The ones filled with blood and gore and sensations of not ever being in control of his own body. Red and black, red and every other colour, red and the silence that came with death. It was always the colours that stood out from the thick dark of the dream.

                             The screams came through something like a thick piece of cloth, muffled and almost incomprehensible, but Koujaku knew who they came from, and the sheer horror of that knowledge should have been enough to halt his muscles, to stop his arm from slinging down and executing the sentence of death upon his father… and mother. It didn’t – it didn’t stop him.

                             It was like watching a film, one that couldn’t be rewound and ejected. More red spread around Koujaku’s dim vision, splotches of blue somewhere at the edge of the nightmare. Stuck in this out-of-body dream, Koujaku screamed – but no sound came out, not before his sword hung low and blood lay scattered all around him and the space of darkness. And when he heard himself—

 

 

 

Koujaku gasped hard, his whole body trembling as his eyes stuttered open, wide and unseeing in the darkness that had fallen into the room. Without giving it a second thought, he climbed up from the bed that was at least as familiar as the one at his own apartment and shakily started to search for his kimono without turning on the lights. Not a coherent thought passed, but the need to get out urged his muscles forward, his hands to tie the kimono and then pull up a lighter and the pack of cigarettes.

He left Beni in sleep mode behind as he carefully stepped outside as his rationality took over. Tae-san and Aoba must be sleeping, so he needed to do this quietly –

Oh, but they weren’t sleeping. Koujaku blinked, the motion quick and almost feverish as he heard the low murmurs of the grandmother and grandson coming from downstairs. Fingers around the lighter and the cigarette pack tightened out of impulse, his heartbeat racing, and fear numbing all his senses as he worried they might find him like this.

He couldn’t distinguish any words Aoba and Tae-san was saying, but they both sounded peaceful, a stark contrast to the wreck Koujaku was. A home to Koujaku’s homeless self. A family to a mother killer. Koujaku tore himself away as the thoughts haunted him and his eyes dampened, the fresh pain stinging and prickling at him all over.

He wandered into Aoba’s room, inwardly apologizing for the intrusion as he strode through the messy floor, straight towards the glass doors leading to the veranda without noticing his own bare feet and pants-free legs before the chilly night air embraced him. Even then, he didn’t care, as his trembling fingers were already working on lighting a cigarette. Eyes half-lidded, Koujaku leaned himself against the railing and brought up the now lit cigarette to his lips as he shoved the pack and the lighter into the pouch tied to his side. The first burn in his throat gave him a semblance of calm, and he closed his eyes fully, exhaling the smoke out of his mouth.

It was a cold night, and the wind from the side ruffled Koujaku’s untied ponytail, spreading strands of hair down to tickle at the skin of his neck and collarbones. Koujaku didn’t feel the cold, and so his bare feet and legs didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.

It had been a bad idea, Koujaku thought distantly as his fingers fiddled with the cigarette, to agree to have dinner with Aoba and Tae-san when the anniversary of mother’s death was coming up. He should have known better, but at the same time he had hoped that the feeling of having people as close as family in his life would drive away the tragedy from his dreams, if only this one time. He didn’t want to be trapped by the grief and bitterness; that was the reason he had chosen to return, after all.

Koujaku wrinkled his nose, the scar over it itching, and opened his eyes to rid himself of the blood-tainted memory. _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it—_

Inhale, exhale. Staring into the darkness between the next building and this one. The practiced action, the familiar scene, both put Koujaku a little more at ease. He was alright. He would be fine – before Aoba would find him, he had to be alright. Koujaku sighed, the sound heavy over the nocturnal noises that came from the streets. People doing either Rib or drugs transactions, or even Rhyme. It sure was different from the time he and Aoba had been kids spending time on that playground while waiting together for Tae-san, hands squeezed together in a silent promise.

Koujaku almost missed the sound of the veranda doors sliding open, but there was no way to not hear Aoba’s voice as it called out to him curiously. “Koujaku? Hadn’t you gone to sleep already?”

Koujaku relished in the sound, but didn’t dare to look back to Aoba just yet. “Ah… I felt like I need another cigarette, after all.”

“That’s a real bad habit, you know.”  Aoba’s voice was laced with sleepy irritation, but he didn’t prod Koujaku’s answer further. Instead, footsteps retreated back into Aoba’s room; he has obviously gone to get the ashtray for Koujaku.

Koujaku waited quietly, unmoving as he smoked his cigarette and spaced out. This feeling he had around Aoba – this feeling he couldn’t put an exact name on. If there was anything pure left in him, it was this feeling of warmth and embarrassment that filled him up when Aoba was with him. Koujaki smiled, a tight but genuine expression, when Aoba came to put the ashtray beside his shoulder on the wooden railing.

“There you go.”

“Thanks,” Koujaki said, turning his gaze to his precious friend. Aoba’s pale eyes stared back at him, full of curiosity and perhaps slight concern for Koujaku. “Huh? What’s with that face, Aoba?”

“I should be the one saying that,” Aoba said, rolling his shoulders in a shrug as he took his place beside Koujaku, eyes absently observing Koujaku’s unnaturally stiff posture. “You’ve been off all night, and now you’re smoking again while sweating like a pig.”

“Sweating—I’m not,” Koujaku made a face, lips curving up as he laughed at Aoba’s words. “You’re exaggerating, really.”

“You didn’t even do your hair up, Koujaku,” Aoba huffed, and hesitantly tugged at the ends of Koujaku’s hair. While Koujaku didn’t have sensitivity in his hair, Aoba was still adorably awkward about touching it. “That’s a cause for concern.”

“Are you concerned about me, Aoba?” Koujaku’s grin widened, even though his heart felt like it was close to bursting from the simple knowledge that Aoba cared. _Of course he does, idiot_. “That’s cute.”

“Don’t dodge the topic, Koujaku,” Aoba scowled at him, brows furrowed adorably on Aoba’s equally adorable face. Some things, at least, never changed. Koujaku’s fingers twitched with an old urge to feel Aoba’s hair, to see if it was as soft as the colour suggested.

“I’m not, really,” Koujaku chuckled, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. It would be easy to give in to despair if he didn’t have Aoba in his life, Koujaku mused. Sometimes his decision to live even despite his crime felt like the right one. Koujaku smiled harder, dropping his gaze as he exhaled. “Sorry – I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Mmhm, you never do.” Aoba’s voice dropped into a gentler tone, one that touched the deepest part of Koujaku’s heart and made him want to cry. “You know you too can tell me anything. Hippo.”

Koujaku almost choked on his cigarette, but he managed to cover it up by pretending to cover his face while discreetly coughing into his palm.

And by discreetly he meant _not at all_.

Aoba, of course, laughed – and usually Koujaku would have said something back, but right now the sound of Aoba’s breathless giggles eased Koujaku’s troubled thoughts and feelings to the point where he couldn’t help but laugh himself, for real this time.

“If smoking’s supposed to be cool, you’re ruining its reputation,” Aoba managed between his uneven breaths as he hung his head low, hands grasping at his stomach as he tried to calm down. “Geesh, that was lame.”

“No one ever said it was cool, though,” Koujaku shrugged, extinguishing his cigarette into the ashtray before adjusting his kimono better as he was anxious to keep his secrets from Aoba at least for the time being.

                             ( _If he ever finds out – aa, I think I would die.)_

“I guess so,” Aoba said, a small smile on his lips as he peeked at Koujaku’s face. “I used to think you were, though.”

“Aren’t I still?” Koujaku pursed his lips as if he was miffed at Aoba’s comment.

“No way, no way,” Aoba laughed, and his hand went to tug at Koujaku’s hair again. “You’re just a big idiot, these days.”

Koujaku gently pushed Aoba’s hand away, ignoring the growing heat on his face as he looked away into the darkness. “Hey, that’s pretty rude, Aoba. Aren’t I your important childhood friend who miraculously came back after all this time?”

Aoba stayed silent – and that sent Koujaku’s nerves to the edge again, because _surely, surely_ Aoba felt at least a little happy to have him…?

“Yeah,” Aoba said, softly and almost like he was a child again, “I am happy to have you back, Koujaku.”

Koujaku could have cried, but instead he smiled widely at Aoba, because that was the expected reaction. Tears would reveal so much more than what Koujaku wanted Aoba to know.

“I’m,” Koujaku managed, “glad to be back, Aoba.”

It had been months, but still. It was difficult to close the gap that had fallen between them during the years of absence of each other, especially when Koujaku had secrets he could not share. But even so, even if Aoba didn’t know everything, there was nothing that could change the feeling blossoming in Koujaku as he watched Aoba smile at him.

It had been that smile that, in the end, had given him strength to keep moving, even though it might not have been the correct direction. Koujaku hummed, distracting himself from the direction his thoughts were slipping to.

“I had a bad dream,” Koujaku ended up saying after a moment as he slid hair behind his ear and adjusted his longer bangs over the tattoo beside his right eye. “It sounds silly, when I put it like that. I’m a grown man, after all.”

“Idiot,” Aoba chastised, pinching at the back of Koujaku’s free hand that rested on the railing. “Everyone gets like that sometimes.”

“Ah, yeah.” Koujaku shifted awkwardly, and Aoba’s hand left his hair. A pity, since Aoba’s touch had soothed him more than he himself could have. “I’m being silly.”

“Yeah,” Aoba agreed as he slid the veranda doors open for both of them. “But you wouldn’t be the Koujaku I know if you weren’t.”

Koujaku laughed for real as he went and slung an arm over Aoba’s shoulder. “That’s the thing you like about me, isn’t it?”

“Obviously not, hippo!” Aoba flustered, shoulders tense even as Koujaku avoided touching Aoba’s hair. Realizing that it wasn’t the best thing to do, Koujaku released the other, but not without laughter.

“If you keep denying that, one of these days you’ll break my heart, Aoba.”

                             ( _I love you—)_


End file.
